


Do Not Disturb

by Xyriath



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Biting, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Briefly mentioned PTSD, But Lance is trying bless him, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Hair-pulling, M/M, Marking, Minor Homophobic Comments, Restraints, Shaving Kink, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Trans Female Pidge | Katie Holt, Walking In On Someone, and gets called out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 00:48:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9942782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xyriath/pseuds/Xyriath
Summary: Lance would really like to believe he knows everything about his teammates.  His teammates would really like him to knock.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Massive <3s @ Getti, who talked through the beginnings of this fic with me and gave me lots of Lance reactions. <3

_Shiro gasped, the sudden jolt of pain arcing through his neck, and instinctively, he tried to twist away.  But the hand—the hand in his hair wrenched back further, driving his head to an almost impossible angle, baring his throat to attack.  The muscles in his legs strained as they threatened to cramp, pushed nearly to breaking._

_The tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes, and with the next, brutal movement, he couldn’t stop the scream from tearing free of his lips._

—

Lance froze at the sound, the yell, the _cry_ coming from the direction of Shiro’s room.

He had never been in this direction, not this late in the evening.  Shiro had made subtle requests in that direction, and Pidge had made sure they were both explicitly understood and enforced.  With some observation and a few impressively subtle questions leveled both at Pidge and Keith—who wouldn’t notice subtle if it bludgeoned him in the face—he was pretty sure he had managed to put together why.

And he couldn’t blame Shiro, not for the nightmares.  Not after everything he had been through, especially once Shiro had begun to open up more about his experiences as a prisoner of the Galra.  Pretty heavy stuff.  Didn’t make him any less of an awesome guy, or change the fact that he was really good when it came to advice.  Which is why Lance was here in the first place.  It was early-ish, right?  Shiro couldn’t have been sleeping.

But the screams from inside told a different story.

For a moment, Lance hesitated.  Shiro had asked not to be disturbed, so clearly he didn’t want the other paladins knowing of his nightmares.  But with those sounds… shit, _someone_ needed to wake him up!

Steeling himself, with a loud “Hey!” to announce himself, he shoved the door open.

And froze at what he saw.

—

Shiro panted, then groaned, as Keith’s free hand trailed down his chest, then stomach, then gripped tightly at his hips as he continued to thrust roughly into Shiro.  He could feel Keith’s breath hot against his neck as Keith yanked his head back further, the ropes chafing at Shiro’s wrists as he whined, tugging on them.  But the knots held firm, and Keith bit again, running a hand up Shiro’s thigh and leg, then gripping the ankle thrown over Keith’s shoulder.

Shiro let out another scream, yanking at the rope so hard he could feel the posts of the bed start to crack.  He arched his hips desperately into Keith’s next thrust, reveling in how he fucked into him, ruthless and fierce, took him with a possessiveness and intensity that left Shiro keening for more.  God, the way Keith filled him, stretched him, teased him—

“Hey!”

It took a few moments for Shiro to draw himself back out of the haze of him and Keith, tangled together, but the unfamiliar voice helped.  It wasn’t his own, crying out in a show of wanton helplessness, and it wasn’t Keith’s, growling promise-threats or gasping benedictions.

With a sinking feeling as Keith slowed, Shiro turned his head.

Lance stood in the doorway, arm raised halfway as if to catch someone’s attention, the hand hanging limply.  From his angle, Shiro sent up a brief prayer of thanks that he was _pretty_ sure Lance couldn’t at least see any… well, important bits.  Though there would be no missing what they were up to, not even by Lance.

The dread sank further into Shiro, settling like a metal weight in his stomach as Lance continued to stand there, frozen.  Not that he could blame him: Shiro hadn’t been able to move at all either, not since Keith released his hair and he had turned his head.  And Lance’s dumbfounded expression had to be better than Shiro’s of shock and horror, first directed at Shiro, now fixed on Keith.

Of the three, however, most concerning was Keith’s: sour, yes, but utterly unsurprised or even too terribly ruffled.  And directed right at Lance.  As if waiting for something.

When he didn’t get it, whatever it was, Shiro’s eyes widened further as he felt Keith’s cock slowly slide out, nearly to the tip, then push back in, thrusting slowly and deliberately, eyes locked on Lance the entire time.

Despite himself, Shiro groaned, eyes fluttering closed.  That seemed to break the spell.

“We’re busy,” Keith said flatly, thrusting again, but the tone carried an undercurrent of something a little wilder, more dangerous.

Lance finally managed to speak—sputter, at least.  “You’re—you’re!  Having—!”

Keith just continued to stare.  “Really, _really_ great sex.  So you should go.”

“But… but how…?”

The idea of explaining to Lance how coitus worked—while currently in a suspended state of such himself—sent another streak of panic through him.

“God _dammit_ , Lance!”

After a squawk of alarm—at the tone, the sound of Shiro actually _swearing_ , or both—Lance bolted, the doors hissing shut behind him.

Keith made a mollified noise, and Shiro closed his eyes, wincing.

“You could have handled that better.”

Keith didn’t speak, but he certainly did plenty to shut Shiro up.

—

“Guys, guys!”

Hunk looked up from the third of the tiny robotic cars he was building for the mice, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth, an Altean tool in his hand.  Pidge, absorbed in something she was doing on one of the viewscreens, didn’t even acknowledge his presence.  Still, he knew she could hear, and _this_ news would get her attention.

“You’ll never guess what Shiro and Keith are doing _right now!_ ”  He still couldn’t believe it himself, was still reeling with the shock and surreal unreality of seeing Keith and Shiro— _Keith and Shiro!_   And not just that, but _Keith_ was—!

“Fucking?”  Pidge’s voice was impassive, almost bored, as she pushed her glasses up on her nose, still not looking over at Lance.

Hunk let out a burst of laughter.  “Haha, good one, Pidge!  But that would never happen.”

Lance shook his head vigorously, arms reaching out to flail in Pidge’s general direction.  “No!  They’re—wait.”  His arms fell down to his sides as Pidge’s words penetrated, and he stared, disbelief piling on top of shock.  She had to be joking, right?  “Yeah, how did you know?”

She finally, finally looked up, but the only expression on her face was vague irritation, probably from being interrupted.  “The question isn’t how I know, but how didn’t _you?_  Honestly, I’m just surprised it took them this long.”

“ _What?!_ ”

Hunk, at least, gave Lance the reaction he wanted, and Lance turned, lifting his arms and waving them again, letting the shock roll back over him.  “I know!  That’s what I thought!  But Keith just looked at me and told me they were—”

“You _walked in_ on them?”  Pidge snorted.  “Wow, Lance.  I would have thought that even you had more tact than that.”

“Yes, okay, but it was an accident!  I thought he was having a nightmare, because I heard yelling, but…!”

Pidge let out a choking noise that sounded suspiciously like laughter, and Lance whirled to glare.

“Look, okay, it was _shocking_ and _alarming!_ ”  He threw his hands up in the air, scowling.  “And—”  Something else occurred to him, something that was _bound_ to throw her off.  “And you know what else?!”

“What?”  She had returned to her viewscreen, and Lance had the feeling she asked the question more to humor him than for anything else.

“Keith was _on top!_ ”

She paused again, and for a moment, Lance thought he had finally penetrated that unimpressed calm.  But then she looked up, and her expression hadn’t changed.

“So?”

“You know!”  Lance crossed his arms.  “On top.  The pitcher!  With Shiro on the bottom!”

“And… why is that surprising?  Or any of our business, for that matter.”

“Just, y’know, you wouldn’t normally expect…”  As Pidge’s expression shifted minutely, eyes narrowing, Lance trailed off, quickly reassessing.

“Hold up.  Is this one of those things?”

Pidge exhaled through her nose.  “Yes, Lance, this is one of those things.”

When Pidge had come out, Lance had quickly learned that a lot of his notions about masculinity were more harmful than he had thought, especially having a trans friend.  Or being a decent and respectful human being, for that matter.  He had done his best to listen when Pidge, Shiro, or Keith—which now made sense—corrected him, but he still slipped up.  Like right now.

He hesitated, trying to think through everything they had told him.  The solution wasn’t as difficult as he thought it might be, and as he took his chin in his hand, brow furrowed, the pieces—he thought—seemed to fall into place.

“So, you can’t judge what people like to do in bed by their personalities, because then you’re Turning it into a… gender?  Thing?  Which is sexist.”  He frowned.  “Right?”

“Among other things.”  Pidge’s expression had softened, and she nodded.  “But you’ve got the idea, yeah.”

Lance sighed, flopping down into a vacant chair, glancing over at Hunk, who seemed to be relaxing, too.  Hunk had never been one to comment much on any of these matters, but the more comfortable his friends could be, the better.

“So, really, no one is going to be shocked at Shiro and Keith with me?!  Did _everyone_ see it coming?”

“I didn’t!”  Hunk’s head lifted again, and he looked just as stunned as Lance had felt a few minutes ago.  “So, like, do you think this is the first time they’ve ever—or have they been hiding it?!  Are they dating, or do they just…?”

Now, _this_ was what Lance was talking about.

—

Shiro couldn’t have imagined returning to this level of intensity after their interruption, but he had clearly underestimated Keith.  Keith had finally released his hair, dragging his nails down Shiro’s sides, leaning forward to kiss him roughly, fiercely, staking a claim, as if personally offended by the interruption, that Lance had seen Shiro like this.  Naked, legs spread, bound, thoroughly and filthily debauched.

Keith’s teeth met skin: shoulders, neck, jaw, collarbones— _god_ , collarbones!—and finally closed around Shiro’s bottom lip, tugging, each movement drawing forth a reciprocal sound.  Neither of them cared when Shiro’s leg slipped off Keith’s shoulder; instead, Keith simply leaned in further, canting his hips to thrust with an even deeper angle as Shiro _keened._

Keith’s hips snapped, and with another shouted cry, Shiro came.

As they tangled together afterwards, underneath the sheets, breaths heaving in discordant rhythms, Shiro groaned, burying his face in Keith’s shoulder.

“You… I mean it when… I say… you could’ve handled that better,” he panted, eyes closed.

“I… handled it fine, Shiro.”  A few more breaths.  “This way, I just… treat it as normal, and it won’t be a big deal… when we see them again.”

Shiro groaned again.  _Them._   Of course Lance would tell everyone.  Why this?

“You’re… gonna have to face them eventually.”

“Not tonight?”

Keith chuckled, pressing his lips against Shiro’s temple.  “Yeah.  Not tonight.”

—

The next morning wasn’t as bad as Shiro had imagined.  At least, not until he looked in the mirror.

“Keith, what did you _do!_ ”

Keith’s head appeared behind him, leaning forward and resting his chin on Shiro’s shoulder.  Tempting as it was to nudge him and cause him to lose his balance—he was obviously standing on his toes—the soft smile on Keith’s face was enough to leave him momentarily incapable of any action whatsoever, let alone speech.

“Just emphasizing the point I made last night.”

Shiro let out a resigned sigh, running his fingers over the several—more than several, really—dark red marks decorating his neck, jaw, and collarbones.  Some of them, his shirt would hide, but many of them it wouldn’t.  “And this was necessary?” he finally asked, but the question had no force behind it.

Keith dropped back on his heels and pressed a kiss to Shiro’s shoulder blade.  “Yeah, totally.”  His hand snaked around beside Shiro to snatch up the razor before Shiro could grab it, and Shiro sighed fondly, backing up towards the chair they kept in the bathroom for just this purpose.

“One day I’m just going to take it back from you,” he said, but he smiled as he did.  Ignoring him and reaching for the substance Alteans used as a shaving cream, Keith settled into Shiro’s lap, one leg on each side of his knee.

Some time later, freshly shaven, fucked again to within an inch of his life, showered, and dressed, Shiro did have to show his face to the other three paladins.  And, god, Coran and Allura.  Had Lance told them?  He could at least hope that the news hadn’t gone that far.

But no one offered them even a second glance.  Only friendly nods, early morning pleasantries, and offered plates of breakfast.

They all sat and ate in casual silence, Shiro’s shoulders unknotting as the morning drifted on.  He was beginning to wonder if the entire disaster hadn’t been a dream, and—

“Soooo.”  Lance’s voice cut through his reverie, and Shiro’s eyes darted upwards to see him leaning back in his chair casually.  Too casually.  “Did you two… sleep well?”  With a forced grin, he winked over at them.

Shiro and Keith stared, Shiro’s heart sinking.

Hunk’s elbow dug into Lance’s side, drawing a startled yelp as Shiro covered his face with a hand.  “C’mon, man!  We were supposed to be playing it cool!”

“I am cool!  This is me, being cool!”

“Lance,” snapped Pidge, “you wouldn’t know cool if you walked in on it f—”

“Pidge!” Shiro cried, voice strangled, a deep horror settling in his bones.  “Don’t!”

She rolled her eyes, and the three began their bickering.

As Shiro leaned back in his chair, resignation quickly overpowering anything else, Keith wrapped an arm around his shoulder.  With a sigh, Shiro leaned into it.

“It’s not gonna be that bad.”

Shiro laughed softly, already feeling just a bit better.  “No, I imagine it won’t.”  He half-tuned in on the conversation between Lance, Hunk, and Pidge, and immediately wished he hadn’t.

“So, since it’s out of the bag, does that mean I can make them a “Congrats on the Sex” cake?”

“ _Lance!_ ”

A moment of silence from Shiro’s side of the table, and Keith cleared his throat.

“Okay, well, it won’t be absolutely terrible.  How about that?”

Shiro sighed again, watching them bicker, but a smile played around his lips.

“I think I can live with that.”


End file.
